Homecoming
by Dark Aegis
Summary: Home. It can be many different things, but Jack Harkness is about to learn what it truly means. A sequel to Brave New World and Duty Calls. COMPLETE
1. Chapter One: The Return

**Title:** Homecoming  
**Author:** Gillian Taylor  
**Rated:** PG-13  
**Characters:** Ten, Rose, Jack  
**Summary:** Home. It can be many different things, but Jack Harkness is about to learn what it truly means. A sequel to _Brave New World_ and _Duty Calls_.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. I just like to play with them...a lot.  
**Archive:** Sure, go for it. Just let me know.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks, as always, to my lovely BRs nnwest and wendymr. _A Brave New World_ and _Duty Calls_ do not have to be read prior to reading this story, however.

* * *

_"Homecoming"  
by Gillian Taylor_

He wasn't sure what he had expected to feel when he stepped through the TARDIS doors for the first time in two years. Relief? Happiness? Homecoming? Perhaps, but none of those emotions were at the forefront of his mind. Instead, he remembered Satellite Five. He remembered knowing, with the certainty of a martyr, that the end was nigh.

So ends Jack Harkness, killed by a creature that had been as much of a myth as the Doctor. He remembered dying - the instant of extreme pain before the sudden _knowing_ that there was something more. He then remembered pulling in his first breath, the sensation of slamming back into his body and knowing that the universe was not quite done with him yet. He remembered hearing the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS' dematerialisation, and watching as his home disappeared before his eyes. He remembered the pain of loss, and how he had waited for two days before he realised that they were not coming back. He had been left behind, discarded like so much trash.

And now, his eyes traced the familiar lines of the console room, and he sighed.

What did he feel?

He felt every emotion, every thought, every fear and worry that had plagued him over the past two years. He felt all that and more, but he swore to himself that he would not show them the truth. He could not burden them, not after he knew that they still cared.

"Jack?"

Rose. He closed his eyes for a moment before he turned toward her, forcing a brilliant grin onto his face. "Yeah?"

"Is there..." She seemed to reconsider her words before continuing. "D'you want to talk about it?" Her eyes brimmed with compassion, and he forced himself not to react.

"Nah, I'm good. So, how long's it been for you? Since you last saw me, that is?" He had to turn her attention elsewhere, away from him, away from what he had done in the past two years.

Rose looked thoughtful before she replied. "'Bout a month, I think."

A month. He had spent two years thinking that he had been abandoned, and they had only spent thirty-odd days without him. "Barely enough time to miss me then."

"More than enough time," the Doctor corrected, patting his shoulder as he moved past.

The tiny cynical part of him doubted it, even though he could see the truth shining out of Rose's eyes. The Time Lord was harder to read, especially this newer, more jovial version. However, the Doctor that he knew had never lied to him. Dealt out some facts on a need-to-know basis, certainly. But never lied. He could only assume that that was still true.

This wasn't like him. At least, not like the Jack of two years ago. That Jack had had nothing but a smile and a flirtatious comment to share. That Jack had not felt abandoned. That Jack had not found himself struggling from day to day in an era that should have been the last place he would have desired to go. However, he had wanted some feeling of connection to the two that had left him behind, even if it was only that he lived in the same time as one Rose Tyler. That Jack would never have haunted the Powell Estates, straining for a glimpse of the blonde-haired girl that had stolen his heart before she had ever met the Doctor. That Jack had been cocky in his conviction that he was loved and had found a home. That Jack, he thought, was stronger than he was now.

The slender arms that wrapped around him in a hug shocked him out of his reverie. He had not heard her move and he stared at her tousled blonde hair with an expression akin to amazement. "Rose?"

"'S good to have you home, Jack. 'S not been the same without you." Her voice caught upon a muffled sob.

He enfolded her in his arms, burying his face in her hair with a deep sigh. He realised that it did not truly matter how much time had passed; Rose still cared. The Doctor still cared. _He_ still cared. "I'm here now, Rose. It'll be okay." Maybe he was lying. But, if he was, it was only to himself.

The soft scrape of a shoe against the metal grating of the console room floor caused him to lift his head. The compassionate brown eyes of the Doctor stared into his own and, not for the first time, he felt as if his soul were under deep examination. There was only one man in the universe who could make him _want_ to be a better person. There was only one woman who could make him feel the same. To have them both in the same room was a blessing and a curse. Two years had passed and he had done plenty that he was not proud of. However, the sudden brilliant grin on the Doctor's face caused his trepidation to fade.

He had been tried and he had passed with flying colours. Jack smiled faintly in response before becoming aware once more of the young woman within his arms. Guilt twinged at the edge of his consciousness at holding her while the Doctor looked on. He began to gently disengage himself but the barely noticeable shake of the Time Lord's head caused him to pause.

At the silent question in his eyes, the Doctor shrugged. He seemed to want to say more, his brow furrowing as he considered some deep thought. Finally, with a murmured, 'Bollocks,' he stepped forward and enfolded both Jack and Rose within his arms. "Welcome home, Jack."

It was then, held within the arms of the two people he loved most in the universe, that Jack realised the truth. He was right where he belonged.

They remained in the embrace for some time, giving and taking comfort from each other as the soft sounds of the TARDIS filled the room. The Doctor moved first, gently disentangling himself from them both.

"Right then, so where to next? The three of us, back together again. Just imagine what we could do! After all, things're different now. New me. New him. Who knows what sort of trio we'll be? Endearing? Dangerous? Funny? Cheeky? Mouthy? Vain? Heroic? Victorious? Fabulous? Perfect? Sexy?" The last word was accompanied by a rather suggestive wink.

Jack looked at Rose, his brow furrowing in confusion at the list, while she laughed. "Don't mind 'im. He gets like that. You should've 'eard his speech 'bout what sort of man he was."

The Doctor's expression fell, though his eyes still danced with mirth. "I was still learning who I was, Rose."

"Right, an' now what're you doing?"

"Trying to find out what we're gonna be."

"We already know that," Rose replied. "We're gonna be fantastic."

He felt a faint pang at the word, surprised that Rose could use it with such a jovial expression. Yet, as the Doctor's eyes met his own, he knew the truth. The Doctor he knew was still there. Still _here_. And that, as Rose said, was fantastic.

"I've got just the place in mind!" Without bothering to fill them in, the Time Lord practically bounced to the controls. And with a grinding wheeze, the TARDIS took to flight.

Jack grinned at the sight. That was one thing that he did not regret. Though he might have lost two years, two years which might have been spent with this particular pair, it was worth it to see that. The Doctor was happy, truly happy, and not ashamed to show it. Much as he loved the previous version, it was a relief to see that the cloak of pain and guilt was all but gone. He could catch a sight of it, in the tilt of the other man's head, the way he moved his body, but it was far more muted than before.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Ah, ah, ah!" the Doctor tisked. "Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise!" A few moments later, the time rotor ceased its frantic movements. "There we are!"

Rose's lips barely formed the word 'where,' when the Doctor began to usher them toward the doors. "Don't ask! Look! Honestly, how're you gonna learn anything if you don't see it for yourselves?"

She smacked a trenchcoat-covered arm with a grin. "You still think you're so impressive."

"That's just 'cause I am."

Jack just shook his head as he pulled open the door, and stopped, dumbfounded. He knew exactly where they were. The vibrant cerulean-hued sky was unmistakable.

Telurais.

Home.

* * *

Telurais. Lots of sand, sun, multi-coloured beaches stretching from horizon to horizon, and best of all - no chance of trouble. For their first trip, reunited in one sense of the word, he wanted it to be calm. Admittedly, with as jeopardy-friendly a companion as Rose Tyler at hand - let alone himself - there was little chance of it being uneventful. However, one could hope. The Doctor's grin faded, however, when he noticed that Jack had yet to leave the TARDIS. "Jack?"

When the other man turned to look at him, his hearts clenched from the expression on his face. He could read the pain in his eyes easily, and he silently cursed himself. This was supposed to be a fun trip, not something that would hurt Jack. "What is it?"

"Telurais. You brought us to Telurais." The words were an accusation that he could not deny.

"Is there..."

Before the Doctor could complete his sentence, Jack continued. "You brought me home. And you didn't even know, did you?"

Home. He knew that Jack was from one of the human colonies. It was just his luck that he had chosen _Jack's _colony as a perfect place to visit. His previous incarnation's favourite phrase echoed in his mind: 'Fantastic.' Sometimes, truth was better than omission. That was one fact about himself that he had decided upon. He told the truth. Always. "No, I didn't."

Jack ran his hand through his hair and sighed. When the words came, they were soft - more as if he were speaking to himself than to the Doctor or Rose. "Face your past and all that, right? Learn from it? Grow from it? Hell, I've spent most of my life running from this place. Guess it's about time that I came back. Just never figured it'd be with the two of you. Well, more like never figured that I'd come back at all."

Rose put her hand onto Jack's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

His hearts went out to the man. "We don't have to stay, Jack. We can go somewhere else. The universe is ours to explore. You don't have to do anything that you don't want to."

Jack seemed to steel himself as he shook his head. "Can't run forever."

The Doctor smiled grimly as an echo of pain shot through his soul. Can't run forever? Perhaps. But he, the Doctor, had for most of his lives. No, he firmly told himself. He was not the sort of man to wallow in depression. Especially not when someone he cared about was hurting. "No," he agreed quietly, "you can't."

"Besides." Jack brightened visibly, though he could tell that it was forced. "There's this great cove, just about two hundred metres from here that you'd love, Rose. The surface is a nature preserve, so nothing's been touched by humanoid - or otherwise - hands. They used to let us come up here on holidays. Catch some sun, play in the surf, and just have fun before we got bundled back to the colony. Those days, it was easier to forget..." A shadow passed over the former Time Agent's face, but he shook his head. "So, what do ya say, Rose? Wanna go swimming?"

Rose opened her mouth - to object, he thought - before closing it again. Giving herself a little shake, she smiled. "Sure, if you want to."

"Any excuse to see you in a swimsuit." Jack grinned, though even the flirtation was feigned to his observant eyes.

"You needed an excuse?" Rose asked with mock-astonishment. Ignoring Jack's open-mouthed response, she continued. "Lemme go get my swimsuit. Be right back." Giving Jack's shoulder another squeeze, she headed deeper into the TARDIS.

Jack turned toward him, still slightly slack-jawed from Rose's comment. "Aren't you going to get your swim trunks?"

"Nope! Already wearing them." The Doctor grinned at the other man's astonishment. "Didn't Rose tell you what sort of man I was? I'm always prepared."

"No, you're slightly crazy."

He could agree with that. "That too. How 'bout you?"

Jack put his hands into his pockets and shook his head. "Not gonna swim."

Before the Doctor could ask him any further questions, Rose returned. She grabbed his hand, and tugged him toward Jack. "Ready?"

"Let's go." Jack nodded and the three left the TARDIS.

* * *

He leaned back against the rock and watched Rose and the Doctor cavort in the waves. It felt rather strange to be back here. Home. It wasn't the apartment that he and his mother had shared, but it was the planet. Home. At least he still had a home to return to. His eyes rested upon the Doctor's lanky form and sighed. Home. The Doctor did not even have that anymore. Melancholy, he suddenly decided, did not suit him.

Jack closed his eyes and let the sound of the surf lull him into a state of semi-consciousness. It was in that state that a very important question came to mind. His eyes opened wide as he sat up. "Doctor! What year is it?"

The Doctor stopped splashing Rose as he caught the question. "5048!"

5048? Oh, _hell_. "Doctor! Rose! We've got to get out of here!" Please let them not find them. Please let the sensor net have failed. Please, please, please... The audible click of a safety being flipped directed his attention toward the trees. Four men wearing colonial armed forces uniforms had him firmly in their sights.

"Get out of the water!" a particularly dour-looking man instructed, gesturing with his weapon for Rose and the Doctor to get onto the shore.

One of the other men seemed to be intently studying him and a flicker of sudden recognition darted across his face. While Jack did not recognise him, it was obvious that he was known. Not surprising, given his mother's penchant for remarking about her handsome son as often as possible. It wasn't until he had committed what was, to her, a felony that she stopped. 5048. The year his mother transcended from administrator to dictator.

The man who had seemed to recognise him began to speak by rote. "You're under arrest for trespassing on the Teluraisian Nature Preserve without signed approval from the Administrator. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You will be taken to the Colony for a trial by your peers..."

"Hold on! Who says we don't have approval?" the Doctor asked, edging toward his coat. The dour man's finger tightened on the trigger, and the Time Lord lifted his hands in surrender. "I was just getting the approval. It's in my coat pocket."

Without bothering to notice if the gunman was still trigger-happy, the Doctor reached into his pocket to pull out his psychic paper. Holding it out for the other man's inspection, the Doctor grinned. "See? There we are. Approval. All nice and official."

"That's psychic paper," the gunman replied with a roll of his eyes. "It'll show me whatever you want me to see. That's not going to work."

"Oh, well, worth a try, though, wasn't it?" The Doctor looked downtrodden, before brightening again. "Mind if I get dressed?"

There was really only one choice. If he left it up to the Doctor, they'd be arrested, thrown into his mother's prison, and rot for the rest of their lives. He couldn't do that to them. He wouldn't do that to them. Drawing himself to his full height, Jack looked at the arresting officer with the haughtiest expression he could muster. "We have approval. Don't mind my friend, he tends to get a little carried away with himself. My name's Harkness. Jack Harkness."

Definite recognition. Even, he was surprised to note, fear. Three of the men drew back a few steps, but not the arresting officer. "So the prodigal son returns. She'll be pleased."

"I bet," he said grimly.

"You lot are coming with us. Rodger, search them." The dour faced man, newly identified as Rodger, grinned as he stepped toward Rose. There was a look in the man's eye that neither Jack nor the Doctor cared for.

He had to do something. "No." Jack shook his head. "This is what's going to happen. First, you're going to let my friends go. They have no part in this. Then, you're going to take me to see my mother. It's about time we had a chat about the way things are going around here." He was not, however, going to admit that a small part of him was terrified of seeing her again. Even after all this time, a part of him would forever be an intimidated child.

"You seem to have forgotten something, Mister Harkness." The arresting officer's lips twisted into a cruel grin. "I'm the one holding the weapon here. You are all coming to see the Administrator. Rodger!"

Rodger lifted his hands to start frisking Rose, but suddenly found that a new body had interposed itself between Rose and his questing fingers. "Leave her alone." The Doctor's voice dropped to a growl.

"Doesn't matter to me if you're first or she is." Rodger shrugged. "But I have my orders."

"'Salright, Doctor," Rose said from behind the Time Lord, her slender hand resting upon his shoulder.

"No," Jack replied in the Time Lord's stead. "It isn't."

"We don't have time for this," the arresting officer replied. "Peters, get their gear. We'll search it back at the colony. Rodger, search Harkness."

He favoured Rodger with a glare as the man frisked him. At least he was professional about it, but he was thankful that Rose was spared the indignity. Once the other man stepped away, his wristcomm and a small blaster in hand, Jack asked with a wry smile, "Satisfied?"

Without bothering to reply, the other man resumed his position next to his commanding officer. "The transport is this way." Two of the officers fell behind the Doctor, Rose, and Jack while the others led the way.

Jack was tempted, _very_ tempted, to make use of the previous Doctor's favourite word. After all, it fit. What was more fantastic than getting captured, shoved into a tiny transport, and hauled to face the judge, jury, and executioner in one that was his mother?

He turned toward the Doctor and Rose and smiled grimly. Might as well share the thought. "Fantastic."

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter Two: Can't Run

_Chapter Two: Can't Run_

There was one fact of his life that he would always hate. It didn't matter what sort of man he was. Didn't even matter what regeneration. He hated getting captured. Admittedly, he seemed to have it happen to him a lot. Or, if it wasn't him, he would have to rescue his companions from whatever villainous person had captured them this time. Then he'd have to come up with some cunning escape plan, defeat the villain, and get home to the TARDIS in time for tea. It really wasn't easy being him. Or was that a song?

He had tried engaging their captors in a discussion about the merits of jelly babies versus truffles, but they had either ignored him or told him to 'shut up.' When he had tried to talk to his companions, the captors were a bit more demonstrative in their objection. His jaw still hurt. However, the Doctor was worried. Not about escape - that was easy. More about what this was doing to Jack. He glanced at the other man, catching a glimmer of haunted eyes before they were turned away to look out the window. Beyond the transparent material, the Teluraisian ocean sped past - a stretch of never ending blue that was broken only by the faint white of white caps. Then, the transport tilted and dove toward the water. The deep blue of the ocean filled his vision and a moment later, they were under it.

Bright lights twinkled in the distance, seen but for a moment as the transport banked toward them. The matter of getting back to the shore, and the TARDIS, might prove to bit more problematic than the usual daring escape. But no matter. He lived for the danger. Kept him fit. Kept his wits sharp, too. There was nothing quite like a megalomaniac for that, after all. Then again, it wasn't often that said megalomaniac turned out to be related to one of his companions. And, no, the Master having taken over Nyssa's father did not count.

When the transport arrived at the colony, the guards gestured for them to stand. Casting a longing glance at the bundle of his clothes - and the sonic screwdriver - the Doctor exited the shuttle. There really was only one choice available to him. With Jack and Rose ushered along behind him, he looked around the massive landing bay with undisguised curiosity. The sharp sound of boots hitting against metal grating heralded the arrival of 'someone important' and their escort.

He turned to face a grey-haired woman who bore more than a passing resemblance to Jack. This must be the infamous mother. One megalomaniac, check. One Doctor, check. One plan, check.

Showtime.

* * *

Only the Doctor could appear menacing while being less than half dressed. The pyjama incident on the Sycorax ship was one thing, but to stare down a woman who could only be Jack's mother while wearing swimming trunks? Only the Doctor. She shook her head and stepped closer to Jack, slipping her hand into his. She dared the guards with her eyes to say something when they reached for their weapons with her movement. She was not going to let Jack go through this on his own.

They were family. Partners. Companions. True, Jack had been gone for two years in his perspective. However, that didn't change the fact that she loved him. His fingers pressed her own in a grateful squeeze and she smiled faintly at him. They could do this.

"Who are you?" Jack's mum, at least she assumed it was his mum given his reaction to her, asked. She looked rather haughty as she tried to stare down the Doctor. Silly woman. No one could out-stare the Time Lord.

Without bothering to answer the question, the Doctor spoke. "Didn't anyone tell you that it was rude to interrupt people while they're on holiday?"

The woman arched one elegant eyebrow. "Didn't anyone tell you that it was rude not to answer the question of one of your betters?"

"There's someone better than me here?" The Doctor's face was a study in astonishment. She had the feeling that this was going to turn into another time when they'd be running for their lives. Especially given the way Jack's mum's face was turning red.

"You're new here, so this is my first and only act of leniency on your behalf. I am Administrator Elizabeth Harkness, leader of this colony. And you, all of you, are my prisoners. Violating the law is, after all, a punishable offence." Elizabeth's glare rested briefly upon her, and she suppressed a reflexive shudder. She did _not_ like this woman. At all.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you?" Jack asked, his tone dripping with disdain. "You don't have a lenient bone in your body. Never did."

The Administrator ignored her son's words. "Put them in the brig. All of them."

"My lady," the leader of the guards replied, bowing his head slightly. He gestured for the others to surround the trio once more.

"Oh, the brig? How painfully obvious. Can't you have at least been original? Haven't you even seen some of the bad B movies from Earth? Y'know, the ones where the megalomaniac - played here by you - threatens the heroes - that'd be us - with death and destruction? You really need to go back to villain school, Administrator. You don't even get a passing grade this attempt." The Doctor looked bored.

"Get them out of here," Elizabeth snarled.

As the guards ushered them none-too-gently past the Administrator, the Doctor continued. "And what about our clothes? A last meal? A phone call? Really, if this is how things are run around here, I'm not coming back."

"Who says you're ever going to leave?" One of the guards asked, before prodding the Doctor with his weapon. "Keep moving."

"No need to be so touchy about it. But she still didn't answer my questions!"

"She doesn't need to. You're going to be the one who'll be answering the questions. And at length. With or without your cooperation." With that promise, the guard prodded the Doctor again with his weapon.

"Oooh, now it's torture? Am I supposed to be scared?" He shot her a brief grin. "How 'bout you, Rose? Y'scared?"

"Am I supposed to be? 'Cause if I am, they're not doing a good job at it. Really, I'm sorta bored." She shrugged as she returned his grin.

"Keep moving and shut up!" It was her turn to be poked with one of the weapons. They were pushed out of the landing bay and into a featureless grey corridor.

"You lot need to hire new decorators. Grey went out of fashion about two centuries ago," the Doctor commented. "Or was that last century? Honestly, it does get a little jumbled in my mind trying to remember these things. Now fuchsia, there's a colour. Nice fuchsia corridors, maybe throw in a bit of white. Might look nice."

"Nah, should be a nice pale yellow or a blue," Rose disagreed. "It's a bit calming, that colour. Might make 'em behave a bit nicer to their guests, too."

"You think so?"

One of the guards cocked his weapon and pressed it against the Doctor's head. "One more word out of either of you, and I shoot. Got it?"

The rest of the journey was spent in silence.

* * *

Some things never change. The brig seemed to be one of them. Same boring grey walls. Same lumpy mattress on the single cot in the room. Same metal grating on the floor. Same sparking force field over the doorway. Only thing different was that this time he wasn't alone.

"Nice. Very posh," had been the Doctor's comment after being forced into the cell.

"Bit cold, though," Rose had added, but the comment had been ignored.

The threadbare mattress pad lacked any form of covering, and no amount of complaints had summoned the guards back to them. Rose was obviously cold, tiny shivers running up and down her spine. The Doctor, too, for he had even less clothing on than Rose, had goose-pimples on his arms though he denied it. "On the bed. Both of you. Now." Jack ordered.

Rose shot him an amused look that was echoed by the Doctor. "Bit forward today, aren't you?"

"Well..." He shrugged, and it hid a multitude of sins. "Can you blame me?"

"You still haven't bought me my drink," the Doctor groused even as he complied. He seemed to know what Jack was intending.

"Rose, get between us. You're freezing." He silently cursed himself for not throwing on his jacket before leaving the TARDIS. Then he would have had something to give to them beyond his own body heat.

She nodded and settled between the Doctor and himself. A moment later, arms were wrapped around her, the three exchanging warmth and comfort as well as they could. Given, of course, that they were in jail.

"Brings back memories a bit," he said after a long while. He sensed them listening intently to his words, but they didn't speak. He was rather thankful for that. He suspected that if they had asked, he would not have been able to continue. But, he needed this. Needed the catharsis, because without it how could he face his mother? "Stuck in here. These same grey walls. Same lumpy mattress. Same everything."

"Not the same you," Rose said, and he hugged her.

"No," he agreed. "Not the same me. But close. She had me thrown in here a couple of times for breaking the rules, her rules. Hung out with the wrong friends. Fell in love with the wrong person. Pretty much by doing what was, according to her, the wrong thing. The improper thing." He was not aware that his face had twisted into a grimace of pain at the memories. "I was being groomed to take over, you see. I was going to be the next Administrator since Mother knew that she wouldn't live forever - no matter how much she wanted to. I was supposed to be seen with the right crowds, supposed to dress a certain way, supposed to be the perfect little duplicate of her image of herself. Needless to say, I rebelled."

He felt both Rose and the Doctor turn in his arms, and he was wrapped in another embrace - only this time with himself as the centre. He drew in comfort from their touch, and he thought that they knew just how much he needed it before he continued. "The last straw for my mother was when I fell in love with Harrison Imelder. This might be a more enlightened time, but my mother still harboured the same old prejudices. _Her_ son couldn't love another man. _Her_ son was meant for greater things. _Her_ son was meant for..."

"She was right in one thing, Jack," the Doctor said as he lifted a hand to gently touch Jack's face. "You were meant for greater things than this."

He laughed bitterly. "Maybe."

"No maybe about it. This life? It would've been a waste for someone like you. Besides, I'm selfish. I'm _glad_ you left. I'm _glad_ you joined us."

He felt Rose press a kiss against his jawline. "What we do? Jack, it's better with three. An' without you it wouldn't be the same."

What had he done to deserve friendship like this? What had he done to deserve _love_ like this? Even though they had never said it, he knew it. He knew it from the way they comforted him now. He knew it from the emotions in the Doctor's and Rose's eyes.

And, for the first time in twenty years, he allowed himself to cry. He cried for his childhood, forever lost due to the callous misunderstandings of a manipulative woman. He cried for the little boy that lived inside him that had only wanted his mother's love. He cried for all of that and more.

And they held him.

It was enough.

* * *

She hated Elizabeth Harkness.

With every tear that Jack shed. With every heave of his body, gathered protectively against her own. For every moment of his lost childhood. She hated the woman even more. How anyone could do that to a child baffled her. How anyone could do that to _Jack_ astonished her.

She hated Elizabeth Harkness. But a tiny portion of her mind thanked her. Because without Elizabeth Harkness, she never would have had Jack in her life. However, that did not excuse her from hurting him. That did not excuse the Administrator from any of the sins that she had committed. That did not excuse her at all.

Jack's tears began to abate, his sobs quieting until he lay passively within their arms. She looked at the Doctor, and in his eyes she could see the same burning anger that dwelt within her own. Hurt one of them. Hurt them all.

She tilted Jack's face up to her own and brushed her lips against his in a gentle kiss. "It'll be okay," she told him as she pulled away. An empty platitude, perhaps, but a heartfelt one. She caught his brief astonishment at the action, but she ignored it. She loved him. Why shouldn't she kiss him?

"It will?" he asked, and in his eyes she could see an echo of the little boy he'd never truly got to be.

She didn't have to answer, as the Doctor took over for her. "Yeah. We're here. We're together. And _that_ is how it'll be okay."

Jack offered them a weak smile as he repeated the Doctor's last word. "Okay."

The Time Lord leaned forward and pressed his lips against Jack's forehead before repeating the gesture with her. "Now, let's get out of here. I don't know about you two, there's something about cold jail cells that just doesn't do anything for me."

That startled a laugh out of her and Jack, and they all shared an amused glance. "No," Rose agreed. "They don't do anything for me either. Though I would like to get my clothes back."

"First things first, Rose. Can't have the chicken before the egg. Or was that the egg before the chicken?"

"You," she declared, "are weird."

"But you love me anyway!" He gave her a brilliant smile, before it faltered faintly as he realised what he had just said. Thoughts seemed to play across his face, though she had little insight into them. A moment later, he seemed to shrug and let it pass. They all knew it to be the truth, even though some things remained unspoken.

Jack disentangled himself from them and pulled off his shirt and offered it to her. The sight of his bare chest mesmerised her for a moment, but she shook off the thought and accepted the shirt with a murmur of thanks. Pulling it over her head, she looked expectantly at the two men. "Well? What're we waiting for?"

"I don't know about you, Jack, but I was waiting for an engraved invitation." The Doctor flashed her yet another smile before he turned his attention to the sparking force field that kept them confined.

"Only an engraved invitation? I was hoping for the marching band." Jack seemed to be feeling better, though his eyes told a different story. He wasn't better, but he would be.

"You're both a regular comedy act, aren't you?" Rose asked with a grin.

"We're here all week," the Doctor replied absently as he examined the edges of the doorway. He stopped suddenly and moved back, stepping protectively in front of both Jack and herself.

"Doctor?" she asked, but before he could respond the force field fizzled and winked out.

Rose peered around his shoulder to see Rodger and an unfamiliar guard aiming their weapons at them. "Harkness, you're coming with us."

"And if he doesn't want to come?" Though the words were polite, Rose could easily hear the threat that underlined the words in the Doctor's voice.

"Things would get quite unpleasant for you. Then again, they're going to get unpleasant anyway. Harkness!" Rodger's words were clipped.

Jack sighed and stepped around the Doctor, placing his hand on the other man's shoulder. "It's okay, Doctor. I've got to face her at some point. Might as well be now."

"But..." she objected.

"It'll be okay, Rose. Mother wouldn't dare hurt me. And if anything happens to either of you, well, I never much cared for this city. I'll happily rip it down to rubble in revenge." Jack didn't look at her as he delivered his threat, but she knew that he spoke the truth. She knew that both her and the Doctor's eyes reflected the same. Harm one. Harm them all.

Rodger didn't bother to respond to the threat, only gestured with his weapon. "Let's go."

Jack gave them both one last glance and with a bitter tone he told them, "See you in hell."

Then he was gone.

* * *

He never should have brought them here. Typical, wasn't it? He could have all the best intentions in the universe, but in the end, the people he cared for were hurt. It was supposed to be a nice, fun little romp on a beautiful planet. Instead it had turned into an unpleasant trip down memory lane for Jack. Good intentions? He wanted to snort in derision at that thought. Good intentions had led to this.

Jack was hurting. And now Jack was gone. Taken by the thugs to face his mother without his support. His fingers clenched into a fist as he glared at the force field. This was not getting him anywhere. Regrets were one thing, but regrets wouldn't get the force field turned off. Regrets wouldn't let him rescue Jack.

And here he was without his sonic screwdriver.

When it rains, it pours. There had to be a way for him to get out without his trusty device's help. A loose panel. The appropriate application of brute force. Even throwing the cot at the sparking force field. Something. His brow furrowed as he tried to come up with another means of escape. He felt along the doorway, his sensitive fingers trying to determine if there was something loose. He knew that the sparking was caused by a faulty power regulator - which might be useful had he had his sonic screwdriver.

He firmly told himself not to dwell on it. What was done was done. Que sera, sera. He stepped away from the doorway with a sigh. Nothing. No loose panels. No clever ideas.

Time for plan B.

Whenever he figured out what that was. He ran a careless hand through his hair, succeeding only in rumpling it more than usual. When he checked the cot, on the off-chance that it might be movable, he found that it had been bolted to the floor. Damn humans, anyway. Couldn't they make things easy for him? Just once? No, of course they couldn't. It wouldn't be fun otherwise.

So, plan B. "Rose? How are you at acting?"

"Acting?" She repeated, giving him a suspicious look. "Don't tell me. You're thinkin' of having me pretend that I'm sick or somethin'? An' that'd get the guard runnin', then you bash 'im over the head and we get out?"

He affected a downtrodden expression, though inwardly he was proud that she had figured out plan B. "It was that obvious?"

Rose nodded. "Y'know that only works in the movies, right?"

"It worked on Tenebril."

"Tenebril doesn't count."

"Oh?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Nope. 'Cause I had to rescue you after you tried it."

He'd forgotten about that. "Oh."

Time for plan C, then.

He did not get a chance to determine what plan C was since, for the second time in an hour, the force field disappeared. A new guard, even more sinister-looking than the last, eyed the two of them with an air of disinterest. "One of you is coming with me. Doesn't matter which."

One choice. "Me." He stepped forward, blocking Rose from view.

"Doctor!" Rose objected, but he shot her a quelling glance. Outside, he had a chance of escape. Outside, he had a chance of finding his sonic screwdriver and saving the day. After all, that was what he did. He was the Doctor.

The guard shrugged and gestured for him to leave the cell. "I'll be back, Rose. Don't get into too much trouble without me."

She just shook her head, but in her eyes he could see that she was scared. Not for herself, but for him.

"Once more into the breach? Or was that 'unto' the breach?" The Doctor asked, and was moved forward by the rather forceful jabbing of a weapon in his spine.

"Move." The guard instructed.

He moved.

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter Three: Torture

_Chapter Three: Torture_

He could trace his history in the lines of the ornate wooden door that blocked his mother's office from the public. The small scratch in the corner was from where he had kicked the door in frustration after his mother had pronounced a particularly unfair judgement upon him. The crack by the handle was from where he had slammed the door in reaction to another argument. The unpleasant memories coagulated in his mind, choking him with the remembered emotions and frustrations of his 'childhood.'

Jack was drawn from his recollections as Rodger knocked on the door. The hollow sound his knock made sent shivers down his spine and he forcefully steeled himself. He was an adult. She had no power over him anymore. She had no power. None.

"Come!" His mother's sharp tone answered the knock, and Rodger pushed open the door.

He wasn't sure what he had expected as he entered his mother's domain. Some change, perhaps? Something different? However, everything was the same. The green fern was still in the corner, still looking as if it could do with some more water. The painting of the Teluraisian mountains still hung over the mahogany desk. And his mother...of everything in the office, she had changed least of all.

She still had the look of frank disapproval on her face that he remembered all too well from his youth. "You're dismissed, Rodger. I can handle Jonathan."

He winced. Jonathan. He hated that name. "It's Jack," he corrected.

"No," Elizabeth replied. "It's Jonathan. I named you, boy. I think I know your name." Her eyes reflected her disapproval of his attire, or rather lack thereof. "Cover yourself, boy. I thought I had taught you better than that." She gestured toward the coat rack in the corner in indication for him to choose a jacket.

Jack shook his head. So it begins. He heard the soft click of the door behind him that signalled Rodger's departure. Now, he and his mother were alone. Her grey eyes bore into his, censure radiating off her in waves. He didn't need her approval, he reminded himself. Not anymore. Not ever. "Whatever." He made no move toward the coat rack.

She looked as if she wanted to say something else, but she refrained. "You've been gone a long time, Jonathan. Twenty years...It's good to have you home."

His first reaction was a snort of disbelief. "Good? You were hoping that I'd stay away forever."

His mother's eyes flashed in anger. "You would think that of me? I missed you."

"No, you only missed correcting me. Perfecting me. Oppressing me." Righteous anger burned within him as he strode forward to place his hands on the desktop.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Jonathan, that's not the way to speak to your mother."

"I don't have a mother." Jack snarled, leaning forward on the desk until his face was almost in hers. "I had a demanding, heartless woman who didn't raise a son and didn't know how to love. I didn't have a childhood. And that was all thanks to you."

"I gave you everything you could have wanted. I _groomed_ you to be great. And what did you do? You threw it all away. Ran off to join the Time Agency. And you dare to say that I wasn't your mother? That I didn't love you?"

"You loved yourself," Jack corrected, pushing himself away from her in disgust. "I was just a little extension of you. Perfect little Jonathan Harkness. Just like his mother."

"Jonathan Harkness." His name was snapped. "You will _not_ speak to me like that."

"No?" Jack laughed, and there was a trace of bitterness in the sound. "Too late. I already did. And you know what else? I don't _care_ about what you think."

"Yes, you do." Elizabeth stood in a swirl of her multi-coloured gown. He knew that she thought the gowns looked regal on her, imposing. Queen-like, for that's how she saw herself. Queen of her own little kingdom, and he was her fallen prince.

"Why should I?"

"Simple. I have your friends." His mother's lips curled into a cruel smile. "You don't have a choice in this matter, Jonathan. You are going to stay right here and resume your rightful place at my side. You are my son. You are still my successor. And you don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice," Jack snarled. "And threatening my friends doesn't make me sympathetic to your cause."

"I don't require your sympathy. I require your obedience. The girl would make a good example of my intentions." She pressed one elegantly manicured hand against a panel on her desk.

"Yes, my Lady Administrator?" a voice asked.

"The girl that was arrested today. What is her current status?"

"She's still in the cell, madam."

"And her companion?"

"He's in interrogation."

Jack drew in a startled breath. Too soon. It was far too soon for that. "No."

"Very well. Let me know the results of his...interview." She closed the channel and smiled at him. "The choice is yours, Jonathan."

Life or death. The lives of the people he loved most in the universe or his own. There was no choice. "Very well. But you _must_ let my friends go."

"I knew you'd see it my way. You always did." Elizabeth's smile widened to a self-satisfied grin. "As for releasing your friends...in time. _That_ is all you can demand of me, Jonathan."

Anger burned within his soul as he stared at the heartless woman who called herself his mother. "Yes, Mother."

She stepped forward and patted his cheek condescendingly. "Good boy."

He fought the temptation to lay her out on the floor with one good punch.

* * *

He rested against the hard-backed chair, closing his eyes with nonchalant ease. He had been in the interrogation room, surrounded by the tools of the torturer's trade, for about thirty minutes. Typical. These silly apes never tried anything new. What worked once, must work again. Even if it's on a non-human. On one hand, he could agree that it was a clever use of psychological torture. Leave someone amongst the devices long enough, and they'd start to worry about how it would feel with them being applied to their flesh. When the interrogator entered, they'd be more than willing to tell their tale. On the other hand, it was rather camp. 

The door creaked open and he opened his eyes. The interrogator was stereotypical, right down the surgical gloves and apron. The bald head and dour expression only cemented his first impression. He rather suspected that the man would speak like Boris Karloff, so he was oddly disappointed when the other man spoke with the same flat colonial accent as Jack. "Let's get down to it, shall we?"

"Oh let's," he said dryly. "The accommodations leave much to be desired. There's no running water. Oh, and this chair doesn't have enough cushioning."

The interrogator didn't even bat an eyelash at his words. "Who are you? What is your name?"

"The Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Apparently his name deserved repeating.

"That's me."

"Very funny. What is your real name?"

"That is my real name."

"You expect me to believe that?" The interrogator's hand strayed perilously close to one of the sharp knifes.

"You can believe what you like." It was, after all, one of the fundamental rights. Then again, it might not be on this colony. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if it wasn't.

"What is your name?"

"I told you my name. It's the Doctor. Really, are you all this dense or are you unique around here?" He leaned back in the uncomfortable chair with apparent ease.

"Doctor who?"

"Really, can't you even be original with that question? It's just the Doctor. That's it. No more."

"What. Is. Your. Name?" The interrogator brandished the knife threateningly.

The Doctor looked bored. "If I tell you John Smith, will you be happy?"

"You lie!"

"Yes, well, you weren't satisfied with the truth..." He shrugged. "If you'd be more clear with what you're looking for, might make things a little easier for you."

The interrogator seemed to decide to change tracks. "Why are you here?"

"Well, some of your friends decided to show me the sights of this lovely interrogation room - love the knives, by the way. Oh, you mean _before_ I came in here." He flashed the other man a brilliant grin. Judging from the slight tic in the corner of the man's eye, he was getting on his nerves. Good. "I'm on holiday. Heard the swimming was good around here."

"You are obviously in league with the resistance. You will tell me where their headquarters are. You will tell me who their leader is. You will..."

"A resistance movement?" Fantastic! "That's brilliant! I knew that you lot couldn't _all_ be taken in by your Administrator's lies." Plan C would be easy. Find the resistance movement, help them to topple the corrupt government, save Jack and Rose, and get home in time for tea. Easy.

The interrogator growled. "If you will not cooperate, then I have no choice."

"I am cooperating!" he protested.

The other man's lips stretched into a malicious smile as he hit a control next to him. "You _will_."

Straps suddenly wrapped around his torso, securing him to the chair. "Ah, so _now_ we're getting serious. I was starting to wonder." The Doctor pointedly yawned.

The interrogator picked up one of the knives, considering its lustre in the harsh lighting of the room. "Did you know," he began, speaking almost as if to himself, "that torture is an art form? Go too fast, and the victim is unable to tell you anything for unconsciousness comes far too quickly. Go too slowly, and you can easily kill your victim from too much agony. I pride myself on my work, Doctor-with-no-name. I can tell that you are going to be a particularly enjoyable subject. What shall we start with first? The ears? Or the fingers?" He tapped the blade against his chin thoughtfully.

The Doctor wondered why he was always the one blessed with the insane captors. Couldn't he, just once, have someone who was not a) bent on global domination, b) a megalomaniac of some sort, or c) an escaped mental patient be his captor? Just once? Was it too much to ask?

"I think you'll have to try harder than that if you're trying to frighten me. Try making faces. Those can be scary."

The other man grinned. "I think I know. I have the perfect starting point. We'll start with your feet. Just the little toe, first. We want to prolong the agony, after all."

He had to figure a way out of this. There had to be something he could do. "Sorry. Have to give that effort a C. If you put in a little sneer, you might've got a B. But without that sneer...that only merited a C."

The interrogator did not bother to react. Instead, he pressed another control and the chair tilted backwards. The foot rest was a little too short for his lanky body and his feet dangled over the edge. Now that, he decided, was not right.

The Doctor turned his attention to the knife. He had no illusions that this would not hurt, and unlike his hand, he would not be able to grow them back. Might be interesting to have a missing toe. Could be an amusing conversational piece. He could only hope that Rose and Jack were faring better than him.

The knife moved closer.

The Doctor braced himself.

It dipped toward his foot.

He forced himself not to react.

The tip of the blade touched his skin.

The door banged open.

"Bjarte!" an unidentified woman snapped.

The interrogator fumbled the knife and a razor-thin cut appeared on his toe. "What?" the newly identified Bjarte demanded.

"You have new orders. This man is not to be harmed, and he is to be moved into my custody."

"Miss Troudeau, this is most irregular. You have interrupted at a most crucial time." Bjarte tisked.

The woman moved into view, but his attention was mostly on the fact that somehow his bonds were looser than before. If he could just...move...

There. That was one hand free. Now the other.

"That does not matter, Bjarte." Troudeau replied. She studiously avoided looking at him, though he suspected that she might have something to do with his suddenly loosened bonds.

"Of course it matters. The Administrator wants..." Bjarte protested.

Troudeau interrupted him. "What she wants is for him not to be harmed. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Madam Troudeau." It was obvious that his interrogator did not care for this turn of events.

One foot was loose. Now the other...

"You are dismissed."

He was free. The Doctor slowly pushed himself off of the chair, waiting until his feet touched the floor. Bjarte was a problem. Troudeau, he suspected, was an ally but did not want to be found out. There was only one choice available to him. He only hoped that he could remember his Venusian Aikido.

The nerve junction between the shoulder and the neck should do nicely. He was on his feet in an instant, his arm moving in a Venusian Tala-te manoeuvre toward Bjarte's neck.

The interrogator never stood a chance.

"You certainly took your time," Troudeau commented, eyeing the downed Bjarte with a disgust.

"Still wasn't half-bad for a man wearing swimming trunks," he shrugged. He offered her a brilliant smile and held out his hand. "Hello, I'm the Doctor."

"Evelyn Troudeau. But we don't have much time, Doctor."

"Resistance?" he asked.

She smiled and in her eyes he could see the confirmation. "There's someone you need to meet. But first things first." Evelyn slung her purse off her shoulder and reached inside to withdraw a very familiar brown pin-striped bundle.

"My clothes!" He all but grabbed them from her, running his fingers through the material and finding - much to his amazement - that the sonic screwdriver was still there. Without bothering to ask her to look away, he pulled on the clothing. Much better. Sometimes, it was rather hard to be threatening when you were only wearing swimming trunks.

However, before he would meet whoever it was she wanted him to meet, there was something far more important to ask. "What about my friends?"

"We're working on freeing the girl. As for Jack..."

His startled glance must have told her all she needed to know.

"Yes, I know him. He's with the Administrator. I'm afraid he's beyond our reach at the moment."

"That's not good enough." He wanted to rescue him. Rescue them. Be the one to shut down the force field and help Rose out of the cell. Be the one to defeat Elizabeth Harkness and bring Jack home. However, he knew that that sometimes he just wouldn't get what he wanted.

Evelyn's expression was sympathetic as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Doctor. But there isn't enough time. You have an important meeting to get to, and I assure you, we'll do our best to rescue the girl."

"And Jack?"

Troudeau sighed. "We'll try. But I can't promise anything. Once Elizabeth has her hands on something that she wants, it is all but impossible to get it away from her again."

He was not happy about her response, but he could accept it. For now. "How do I get to this meeting?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Follow these instructions to the letter, and avoid the main hallways. From this point, until you reach your destination, you're on your own."

He accepted the sheet, glancing at the notations. "Right, then. Better be off. I've got a clandestine meeting to attend, after all." He headed toward the door, but paused before he left. "Evelyn? Thanks."

Evelyn Troudeau smiled. "You're quite welcome, Doctor."

And then he was gone.

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter Four: Meetings

_Chapter Four: Meetings_

The Doctor owed her for this. Owed her big time. Only he, after all, would get them in trouble and then swan off before coming up with a better plan than option B. She forced herself not to think about what danger the Doctor might be in without her. When she got out of here - _then_ she could worry about it. For now, she needed to ignore the cold seeping into her muscles from the floor. For now, she needed to pretend that she was sick.

Really sick.

As in, might die without medical attention sick.

So, she shook. Her entire body shuddered in what she hoped were believable convulsions from an epileptic seizure. She added in several painful groans, hoping that the addition would bring the guards.

"Hey! What is it?" one of the guards asked from the doorway. She couldn't hear any others, so she could only assume that he was alone. Sadly, she couldn't look. It would ruin the effect.

She moaned louder, doing her best to make it appear that she was in agony.

"Oh, shit!" The force field lowered, and the footsteps hurried to her side. "Hey, you okay?" The voice grew closer, and she sensed rather than saw the guard sink to his knees beside her.

When she judged him close enough, she moved. All pretences were dropped and she used every dirty trick Jack had taught her to gain the upper hand. She grabbed for his shoulders, forcing his body down to meet her knee. He jerked backward in reaction, losing his balance to lie, dazed, on the floor.

Rose scrambled to her feet and darted out of the room while the guard was stunned. A quick look at the wall next to the cell revealed a control panel, and she selected what looked to be the most likely locking mechanism.

Obediently, the force field sparked to life. Now all she needed to do was avoid any more guards and rescue the Doctor. Then they'd have to go rescue Jack. Same old, same old.

Some things never change.

* * *

Some things never change. 

Even he could see the problems in the perfect little society his mother had built. Just behind the faux exterior, the gleaming panels, and the shining pathways, he could see the fear that lingered in the eyes of the oppressed. He could see, hidden in the shadows, the poor and downtrodden. He could see the unpleasant side of this perfect world.

All she could see was perfection. His mother expounded on the merits of the society that he was to run after her death. She told him of its riches and its beauty. She told him of how she had everyone's respect - and so would he. She told him of how her people were happy and content. She even encouraged him to talk to the people as they passed her little entourage. However, when he asked, they did not tell the truth. He could see the fear in their eyes as they looked between them. He could see how his mother had broken their spirits. She told him of how the laws she had passed - laws of curfew, restrictions, and penalties - had built the perfect world.

She lied.

He knew - who better? - that she had lied to herself for so long that she could not see the truth. She had pulled the wool over her own eyes, and did not care to know the facts. All she cared about was that her perfect society survived.

She disgusted him.

Jack shook his head, moved to try anything to help these people - his people, if it came to that. They were hurting. Maybe, just maybe, he could try to change things for the better. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince her...No. He had tried that before, and the result of that final argument was his flight from Telurais and his past. Some things never change.

Even now, some twenty years later, he wanted to save the Teluraisians. He wanted to spare them some of the agonies he had suffered under his mother's iron thumb. His lips quirked into a smile. He had never before been fond of lost causes. Must be the Doctor's influence.

"Jonathan!" His mother's sharp tone pulled him out of his reverie.

"Yes, Mother?"

"You weren't listening to me. I was saying that Evelyn Troudeau is still unmarried. You two would make the perfect couple." He let her continue her rambling, telling him of the fabulous marriage she would throw for him and of the wonderful life he and Evelyn would have together. He had heard it all before. He could practically recite what she would say next: who should be there, what he should wear, what powerful allies he would make with this alliance.

It was the same tired path that his mother had tread in his youth. She expected to be able to pick things up from where they had left off. No change. To Elizabeth Harkness, his life was defined by two events. Being born on Telurais. And returning to Telurais. There was no in between.

He had to get out of here. He had to escape before she managed to wrap more of her commitments and desires around him until he choked. He needed the Doctor. He needed Rose. He needed people who cared about _him_ rather than their image of what he meant for them. He needed to rescue them. But first, he needed to rescue himself.

* * *

Her world had narrowed to one goal: escape. The scrape of a shoe against the tiles, caused her to press herself against the wall. Though it offered little cover, she was thankful for Jack's shirt. Without it, her red bikini would have been painfully obvious against the white paint. She heard footsteps, drawing near, and the low murmur of voices. 

She was invisible.

No one could see her.

She was invisible.

The chill of the marble wall seeped through the thin shirt, and she suppressed a reflexive shiver. Don't move, don't move, don't move, she repeated the mantra in her mind.

The voices were closer. Couldn't they hear the pounding of her heart? Blood roared in her ears and she willed them to pass her by. Don't move, don't move, don't move. In the corner of her eye, she could see them. A pair of guards on patrol, neither looking left nor right, passed the corridor junction. If one turned, even a little, she would be caught. That would be bad.

Thankfully, the guards continued walking. She waited until the voices receded before she even thought of moving. If she could just get to the next corridor, she might be able to figure out where she was. Maybe. She crept along the hallway, hugging the wall as she moved. Be invisible, she urged herself. Escape.

However, fate seemed to have other plans for her. A hand landed on her shoulder and she stiffened in response. No. No. No!

The hand encouraged her to turn, so she did. Slowly, ever so slowly. Maybe she could get the upper hand. Maybe she could escape again. Maybe...her eyes widened as she recognised her captor.

The Doctor.

It was the Doctor.

He grinned at her, but that wasn't enough. It wasn't enough at all. He was safe. She was safe. Well, as safe as one could be in a colony full of enemies and with Jack still in captivity.

She really didn't even think about her actions. She just did it. She grabbed his collar - when had he found his clothes? - and pulled him into a kiss. As first kisses go, it wasn't her best. It wasn't really even much of a kiss, more of a 'thank God you're alive' reaction.

However, as first kisses go, it changed her world.

It wasn't the feel of his lips against hers - first startled, and then an enthusiastic participant. Nor was it even the feel of his arms as they wrapped around her - even though his body temperature was slightly cooler than hers, his body burned where it brushed against her bare skin. Instead, it was the emotion she felt, bubbling inside her. A mixture of relief, happiness, and love threatened to overwhelm her already over-taxed mind. When they finally separated, she was certain that her expression was dazed.

Wow.

The Doctor's voice was soft as he spoke, mindful of the danger that they were still in. "Hello." Damn him. He didn't even seem flustered. "Miss me?" He grinned, but in his smile she could see the truth.

He _was_ flustered. He was just a bit better at hiding it than she.

"Were you gone?" Rose asked, tongue-in-cheek.

"I'll have you know, Rose Tyler, that I just managed to find us some allies." He tried to be haughty, but his eyes gave him away.

"Can they help us get Jack?" Now that her flying emotions had somewhat settled, her thoughts turned to the missing member of their team. Jack. He was in danger, and they had to save him. But she suspected that to reach him they would need all the help they could get.

"I hope so." He tilted his head slightly and grabbed her hand. "C'mon, Rose. It's not safe to stay here."

So, they ran.

Same old, same old.

She wouldn't change a thing.

* * *

If he closed his eyes, tuning out his mother's monotone voice, he could see him. The Doctor. Strapped to a chair, the leering face of Bjarte - or some other 'interrogator' - leaning over him. Would he start with the knives? Or go straight to the electric shocks? Begin with the punches? Or be a bit more imaginative in how he dealt the pain? Would a knife slip just a little too much? A shock be administered too close to a vital organ? Would he have to deal with another regeneration? Another death? Another loss? 

He knew the Doctor. Even though he had changed, some things remained the same. He would not tell them anything they wanted to know. Or, if he did, they would not be able to understand it. He knew the Doctor. And he knew that the interrogator would see no other choice. He wanted to save him. Rescue him. Comfort him. Extract revenge for every injury on his friend's body. He wanted to tear the city to shreds, but he could not.

Not while Rose was still in their custody.

Not while his mother could hold her continued safety over his head.

He was as captive as they were. As bound as they were. As, and he hated to admit it, helpless. There had to be _something_ he could do. There had to be a resistance. Someone had to object to his mother's rule. Someone. Anyone. If he could just reach them...but no. He was watched too carefully. Though his mother had left him in a room, his old room as it happened, he was locked in. Guards were positioned at the door, and nothing had changed inside.

He remembered this room. There was the bed, covered in layers of fine cotton sheets and thick quilts. There was the wardrobe, filled to the brim with 'appropriate' clothing - not a pair of jeans or a t-shirt in sight. There was the fake window, whose screen could show the outside world but never let him leave. In every corner was a memory, and none of them pleasant.

He had been returned to his gilded cage, and here he could do nothing. He was powerless. Helpless. Hopeless. And, while he was pampered, the Doctor was in pain. And Rose was a prisoner. His hands clenched into fists. No. He would not let this happen. He could not. He _had_ to do something. Anything.

Otherwise, he might go mad.

Unless, of course, he already was.

* * *

Run. 

It was the standard of their lives, the word that defined them and their every movement through time and space. They ran, stumbled, and laughed their way through and out of situations that would have caused a number of his other selves to balk. And so they were running again. Down corridors that were little more than blurs. Through doorways and down yet more halls, following a mental map that he had memorised from Evelyn's paper just prior to destroying it.

He paused at a junction, senses straining to detect even the smallest sound. Nothing. Still safe. Still free.

"Just a little further," he told her in a hushed tone, acutely aware of the feel of her hand within his. Nothing had changed, yet everything had.

From his recollection of the paper, they had to cross the junction, take the next left and knock on the door. Simple.

He should have known better. He was the Doctor. Nothing was ever easy when it came to him, no matter the regeneration.

A klaxon echoed through the hallway, it's sharp tones causing both Rose and himself to wince. "Citizens of Telurais, return to your homes immediately. Do not linger in your businesses. Return home immediately and lock your doors. Do not leave your residences until the all-clear has sounded." The klaxon sounded once more and, with its final burst, the hallway was bathed in a deep mauve.

The Doctor grinned. "That's not good."

She tugged his hand. "Keep going."

He nodded and they took off once more, only this time he heard the sound of pounding feet in the distance.

Guards.

They were coming.

They turned the next corner, and ahead was the doorway from Evelyn's map. They had arrived. Before he could knock on the door, it opened and two pairs of hands reached out to haul both of them inside.

"Keep quiet," a deeply accented voice instructed as the door was closed and locked behind them. "They're coming."

He could easily picture the guards as they walked down the hallway. Would they stop at the door? Try the handle? Sure enough, the footsteps paused and the handle rattled. Apparently satisfied, the guards moved on. Safe. At least, he hoped so. He turned to face the two people that had brought them inside.

"You must be the Doctor." The older of the pair, a dark-haired man with blue-green eyes, smiled in welcome. He was the owner of the accented voice. "I am Harrison Imelder."

Ah. Suddenly things made quite a bit of sense.

* * *

He knew what that meant. The klaxon. The alert. The sound of the guards charging past his door. Someone had escaped. Someone had violated the law according to Elizabeth Harkness, and he knew exactly who it was. He knew who it could only be. The Doctor. And, his heart sang, where one was so was the other. Rose must be with him. The alternative did not bear thinking about. 

They were free.

Now, he grinned. It was his turn.

_To be continued..._


	5. Chapter Five: Plan C

_Chapter Five: Plan C_

Harrison Imelder? Why did that name sound so familiar? It was important - at least she assumed it was given the look of sudden understanding on the Doctor's face.

"Leader of the resistance, I take it?" the Doctor asked, holding out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Harrison. I'm the Doctor and this is Rose Tyler."

She fought the temptation to add that she was his 'plus one,' instead smiling faintly in response. "Hullo."

"The pleasure is all mine, Doctor. I'm afraid that I must be a poor host as I do not have any refreshments to offer you or your lovely companion. Running a covert resistance tends to cut down on the availability of such pleasantries." Judging from the man's expression, she could tell that he was honestly embarrassed by the oversight.

"'Salright," the Doctor shrugged. "Sometimes there are more important things than tea. But only sometimes."

"You are friends of Jack Harkness, yes?" Harrison began to pace, eying both herself and the Doctor with an almost calculating look.

"Yup." The Doctor's response was simple, yet effective. The resistance leader seemed to relax, accepting the Doctor's words as the truth. Then again, it was not surprising. Most good people tended to automatically believe in the Time Lord. There was something about him that just made trust come easily.

"Good. Then perhaps you can answer me this..." Harrison's pacing stopped and he turned to face them. "Why did he come back?"

"Wasn't planned," Rose answered the question, ignoring the Doctor's guilty expression. "We didn't know this was 'is homeworld. Jus' thought it'd be a nice place for a holiday."

Imelder snorted. "Telurais hasn't been a prime vacation spot for over twenty-five years. But, if you're friends of Jack's, well, he wouldn't talk about it. Probably didn't want to remember."

"What 'appened here?" she asked curiously. "What caused all of this?"

"The resistance?" Harrison asked and smiled faintly at her nod. "The cause of 'all of this' is Jack Harkness."

"Doesn't surprise me." The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "And I'm assuming that that's why Jack shouldn't have come back?"

"Partly." Imelder resumed his pacing. "Jack...I don't know what he's told you about me. Or, rather, us. Once upon a time, we were friends, almost-lovers to tell you the truth. Not much really happened between us, mostly because his mother found out and he was...well, I didn't see Jack for over three months after that. He was different after that time, a little more careful about what he said or what he did in public. However, in private, he told me what had happened. His mother. There really are no words for what that woman has done, and continues to do, both to her own son and to her own people. Jack's experiences just cemented in my mind that something had to be done. And Jack agreed."

Rose could hear an unspoken 'but' in his words and waited patiently for him to continue. She longed to ask him just what Elizabeth had done to Jack, but she suspected Harrison would not answer. There were, after all, some things that you don't tell others - even if they're friends.

"Jack saved me from persecution, the last day that he was on Telurais. Somehow Elizabeth found out about the infant rebellion. But she didn't know who was behind it all. She thought it might be me, and sent her guards to arrest me. Jack found out and, after warning me, confronted Elizabeth with what he knew. He told his mother to think about what she was doing to this planet, to her people, and to him. And she...well, only Jack can tell you what happened. I just know the aftermath. Jack somehow managed to escape and tried to encourage me to come with him. However, I knew that without one of us the rebellion might never come to fruition. So, I stayed and Jack left. He never should've returned."

"But he did," the Doctor said with a deep sigh. She gave his hand another squeeze, trying to draw him out of the guilt that he was trying to drown himself in. He might profess to be a 'new man,' but some things did not change. And taking the weight of the world onto his shoulders, even when he had no way of knowing what might happen, was definitely one of them.

"Then 'ow are we going to rescue him?" she asked, trying to direct the conversation down other, more productive paths than those assigning blame.

Harrison did not meet her eyes, suddenly deferring to his companion. The woman was petite - almost frail-looking - but judging from the expression in her eyes, Rose suspected that she could easily defeat any number of foes. She was a fighter of some sort, had to be. "I'm not sure that we can, Rose. My name's Helena Marcos and I suppose you could say that I work security. Elizabeth is surrounded by guards at all times. It would be logical to assume that the same would be true of Jack. He's been known to rebel before, and the rumours that I heard indicated that your safety was what was keeping him on the Administrator's leash. She won't be letting him have free roam of the colony."

Imelder shook his head. "She never has before, after all. Now with Jack back in her clutches, I doubt she'll let him out of her sight."

The Doctor smiled tightly. "Ah, but where there's a will, there's a way. Knowing Jack, he'll find that way."

"For your sake, I hope you're right." Marcos replied.

For _their_ sake, Rose hoped he was too.

* * *

Though the room was a cage, it had still been _his_ room. He had had one place, just under the bed, where he had stashed clothing, books, and music that his mother disapproved of. He crawled underneath the bed, tracing the wooden frame with his hands for the catch that would reveal the hidden storage area. Ah, there it was. Just a tiny knot of wood, almost invisible against the grain. He doubted that his mother even knew of the hidden feature to the bed - at least, he hoped not. He needed a shirt of some kind, and though he had definitely broadened across the chest over the past twenty years, any covering would do. He ideally wanted a t-shirt, not any of the silk dress shirts or tuxedo pieces that were stored in the wardrobe. He wanted to be himself rather than what his mother wanted to be.

The concealed panel dropped open and two t-shirts emblazoned with youthful band names and a pair of jeans fell out of the compartment. It was a lot more bare than he had remembered, but he suspected that this was yet another memory that he had forced out of his mind. When he had still been underneath his mother's iron thumb, he had been caught while wearing a t-shirt. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the sting of the welts his mother's anger had left upon his skin. His face had been spared, as had any portion of his body that could be seen by anyone else.

Even now, some wounds would never heal. Jack selected one of the shirts and put the rest back into their concealed compartment. Though it did not matter if he hid the stash now, it was habit. Besides, he had no intention of having to look at this room ever again. He wanted out. He wanted to be free. And he wanted to rejoin his friends.

His mother would be occupied during the alert - probably directing the troops or whatever else a dictator did while her colony was falling apart around her. This was as good a time as any to try for an escape. He slid out from under the bed and stood, absently brushing dust particles off his jeans. Pulling the shirt - a little snug, but better than nothing - over his head, he carefully considered the door.

Problem: Two guards, just outside a door that was locked from the outside. Assets: Guards generally are less experienced and young. He had superior training and the determination to use it. Hand-to-hand combat was one of his specialities. Conclusion: Lure the guards inside, knock them out, tie them up, and escape. Only what would lure them inside?

He dismissed the 'pretend to be sick' routine immediately. It rarely worked, and when it did it was pure fluke. He could always try asking for food or some sort of entertainment - books, a vid, something. It'd just be a matter of luring them both inside. Maybe he could try seduction. He shrugged slightly. Might as well play it as it goes.

"Here goes nothing," he told the room at large, though, of course nothing responded. Acting tended to come as a second nature to him. He had become skilled at the art of make-believe living with his mother - _pretend nothing is wrong, smile and wave at the citizens, Jonathan. You're happy, remember. They love us. We are the perfect family._ That actor's shell was doomed to break, but he had resurrected and perfected the skill as a Time Agent and as a con-artist. Yet that facade broke as well under the Doctor and Rose's influence.

Now, he had to rebuild it. Carefully, oh so carefully. Nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect. Love the job. Love this life. Missed it, in fact. Glad to be home. Hi, how are you? I'm Jonathan Harkness.

Jonathan.

Goodbye, Jack.

See you in hell.

He sauntered to the door, mask firmly in place. He sharply rapped on the door. "Hey! Guards!"

The door opened a sliver. "Yeah?"

He smiled. "I'm bored. You two can't go anywhere stuck on babysitting duty. And I certainly can't get out. I figure that there's something we can do about that."

"Oh?" Jack caught the glimmer of interest in the other man's eyes, not to mention the subtle once-over he had just been given.

"We could always...amuse each other. A game of cards, perhaps? After all, you'd still be guarding me. Only difference is that you can actually see me and the inside of this room." He let the other man make of his comments what he willed.

The guard turned toward his companion, sharing a brief conversation before turning back toward him. "Yeah, okay. Step away from the door."

Jack grinned. "Fantastic." Showtime. He stepped away from the door, doing his best to look harmless. Jonathan wouldn't harm a fly. Jonathan was a sweet momma's boy.

The guards opened the door and stepped in. There was a moment, and only a moment, where their attention was on the door rather than on him.

A moment was all he needed.

Jonathan could go straight to hell.

Jack took down the first guard in seconds with a roundhouse punch. The second followed his companion to the floor only moments later thanks to the proper use of pressure-points and martial arts. That was almost _too_ easy.

"Remind me never to come here again," he told the prone bodies on the floor. Jack frisked the guards quickly, taking away the communication units and their blasters. The blasters he tucked into the waistband of his jeans. One of the comm units he destroyed while the other was slipped into a pocket. He might need to listen to the enemy's communications to find out where his friends were held. He tugged on the hem of the t-shirt - it really _was_ too snug - and headed toward the door. Freedom.

Next up, find the Doctor and Rose. Anything else could come later.

He opened the door and carefully stepped outside. Clear. He'd try the interrogation rooms first, though he dreaded what he might find. He had to find the Doctor, and, perhaps, rescue him - no matter what. If he was wrong in assuming that the Doctor was free and his friend was still being 'interrogated,' he would never forgive himself for not trying to rescue him. And if the Doctor had been tortured, he wanted to spare Rose the sight. It would break her, and he could not do that to her. Better he find out first, _then_ they could rescue Rose.

It was a plan.

That was, of course, until he found his arm caught by a slender hand. He stared at it, dumbfounded. How could he have been found out so soon? He had looked both directions. It was a rookie mistake to not keep an eye on his surroundings! That was when he noticed the hand had a ring - a very familiar ring. A ring that he had, in fact, given its owner twenty years previously as a token of friendship. "Evie?" he asked.

"Jack."

He turned to face the woman who, as his mother had desired, might have been Mrs. Jonathan Harkness. Her blonde hair was longer than he remembered, but her eyes were the same startling blue. "How...?"

She touched her fingers to his lips to encourage his silence. "There's no time. You've got to come with me."

There was only one place she could mean. She had done it. She had become part of the resistance. And the greatest irony of all was that if he had been forced to marry her as his mother had desired, the resistance would still have formed. Only with him as its leader. "The resistance?" he asked in a hushed tone.

Evelyn Troudeau nodded, dropping her fingers from his lips. "This way."

She set off at a smart pace with Jack following close behind.

* * *

Why was his mind drawing blanks? He always had a plan, or at least he was always able to make a good impression of having one. He knew what he was doing. He knew how things were supposed to go. However, no matter how much he knew - or pretended that he knew - it would not help them rescue Jack. There was, after all, only so much of the cocky Time Lord routine one could pull and still get away with it.

Then again that routine had worked for over nine hundred years. Why fix it when it wasn't broken? He shook his head slightly. These odd rambling thoughts were not getting him, or them, anywhere closer to a solution. While he trusted Jack to do his best, there were times when the best just wasn't good enough. That would be where he would come in. "Do you know what Elizabeth's routine is? Maybe while she's occupied, and Jack is, oh, locked up somewhere, we can mount a rescue?"

Harrison was about to reply when the door banged open. It was only the sound of Rose's shocked gasp that caused him to turn. But it was the expression on Jack's face that caused him to stop.

"Doctor," Jack said his name in a voice barely above a whisper. The other man blinked rapidly, as if he felt that he could not trust his eyes.

What could he...? Oh. He would not put it past Elizabeth Harkness to tell Jack that he had been tortured. _Oh_. Knowing Jack, he had probably imagined dozens of different scenarios - each one ending with some portion of his current body damaged or, even worse, leading to his next regeneration. To be truthful, he had worried briefly about that himself. He had yet to even wear in this body. To regenerate _again_, not to mention so soon after his last one, would be rather annoying.

"That's me!" he said brightly, though he could not disguise the relief in his voice. He had spent far too much time among humans. Their emotions tended to rub off rather quickly and quite thoroughly. He knew what Jack wanted. Or, at least, he knew what _he_ would want in Jack's place. Seeing was not always believing, and for as tactile a person as Jack Harkness, to touch was to believe. No choice, really. It was the _human_ thing to do.

Giving Rose's hand a brief squeeze, he released his grip upon her to cross the room. Two steps was all it took for him to be able to gather Jack into his arms. "Still me, still here," he told his friend. "An' you know what the best part of that is?"

Jack's arms wrapped around him, returning the hug with an almost desperate strength. "So're you," he completed.

The Doctor pulled away just enough so he could look at Jack. Just the hint of tears glimmered in the other man's eyes, and he gave him a reassuring smile. "Welcome back."

Before he could say anything else, or even invite Rose to join them in another hug, he felt lips upon his. The kiss was tentative - a far cry from anything he could have expected from the other man. It was more an expression of Jack's relief, coupled with a deeper emotion that the Doctor knew all too well. He knew that Jack expected nothing from him that he was not willing to give.

He knew what he wanted.

For a moment, even if it was but a moment, he returned the kiss. When they broke away from each other, he smiled gently. "Next time, I expect that drink."

Jack blinked in shock. "Next time?"

He settled for an enigmatic smile and pulled away, inviting Rose to take his place - which she did with reckless abandon. Rose and Jack kissed, and his smile widened.

This was more like it. This was how it was supposed to go. His companions, his _family_, were together again.

As it should be.

* * *

Suddenly, the worries of being stuck on Telurais with his megalomaniac mother seemed to belong to someone else. He felt rather detached from it all, and he owed that fact to two things. Or, rather, two people. The Doctor. Rose. The companions that he loved most in the universe, and they were together again. He had kissed the Doctor. The Doctor had kissed him back. Rose had kissed him. He had kissed her back. Such simple expressions of affection, and yet they had changed everything. He had kissed them before. However, that was a goodbye, a farewell given by a warrior who knew he was about to die. This was different. This was a kiss of life. He felt unstoppable. Unbeatable. If his mother walked into the room, he could laugh in her face. Show her, with the Doctor and Rose's help, just how wrong she had been all along. About him. About Telurais. About...

Oh.

Rose was still in his arms, but he was suddenly aware of their company. And not just any company. It was Harrison. Harrison Imelder, his first love, who had a rather knowing expression on his face. Surely he was not that transparent. Surely not.

"Harrison." Jack greeted him as he released Rose. Her hand trailed down his arm to grab his hand, entwining their fingers. How did she know what he needed? He had no idea what he felt upon seeing the other man again, especially not when he had Rose and the Doctor with him.

"Jack." Harrison's expression broke into a wide smile. "It's _damn_ good to see you again."

He wasn't sure what he had expected as a response, but he was rather sure that that was not it. "It's good to see you, too." And, if he thought about it, it was. He had moved on after he had left Telurais. Harrison had become a fond memory, but as he looked into the other man's eyes, he could almost see the same thoughts running through Imelder's mind.

Jack released Rose's hand after giving it a squeeze. Harrison stepped forward at almost the same time he did and the two men embraced. There was only a fond affection in the embrace, nothing more.

"I'm happy for you," Harrison told him quietly, while they were still in the hug. "If anyone deserves happiness in this universe, it's you."

He smiled faintly, wanting to disagree. The one person that deserved happiness in his life - or lives - was wearing a pin-striped suit. Not him. Not Jack Harkness. He was just along for the ride. "Thanks," he finally said as they separated. "So, want to tell me what's going on?"

Evelyn responded in Harrison's stead, her tone bitter. "You never left Telurais, Jack. At least not according to your mother. Instead, you've either been 'sick' or off studying to be our next leader in one of the outposts."

Jack blinked before his eyes narrowed. "She turned me into the perfect son - in absentia."

Harrison nodded. "Exactly. And since you've returned, well, she's got the media in an uproar. Building you up, saying that you'll save the colony from dissension."

"Sorry, Jack, but your mum's a complete nutter." Rose shook her head in response.

He smiled faintly. "I happen to agree with you there, Rose. She's delusional."

The Doctor looked like he had an idea. An excited grin played about his face as he turned toward them. "I've got it!"

"What?" Rose asked suspiciously.

"Plan C. What's the best way to start a revolution? Anyone? Anyone?" The Time Lord looked expectantly at them but did not give them enough time to respond. "Simple. Show that the leader's lied. An' what's the biggest lie of them all?"

Understanding dawned. "That I've been here for the past twenty years."

"Ding! Ding! Ding! Give the man a prize!" The Doctor gestured dramatically as he spoke. "An' what's the best way to do that?"

Oh. He knew what the Doctor was getting at. He knew what the Doctor wanted. Jack just was not certain he could give him that. He had always hated public speeches. He was more of an action-oriented kind of guy. Give him a gun and ask him to rally a bunch of civvies into fighting against an unbeatable foe? He was your man. Ask him to change the minds of an entire colony? That was someone else.

However, as he looked at the faces of his friends he realised that there was no choice. He had to carry the fight against his mother to another level. He had to tell the truth and to do that he would have to speak. "I have to give a speech."

The Doctor beamed and for a moment he was reminded of a professor expressing pride in a prized student. The image was dashed away a moment later when he read the silent question in the Time Lord's gaze.

Could he do it?

Yes.

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter Six: Viva la Revolucion

_Chapter Six: Viva la Revolucion_

She'd never been a revolutionary before. Sure, she'd lifted a few signs for a protest or two in her life. But instigating a revolution was a new experience. Admittedly, the Doctor and Jack were doing the most. She felt a little like a third wheel in this case, though she knew both would disagree heartily with that assessment. Rose shivered in the faint chill of the room but refused to complain. There were more important things to attend to than her being cold.

"Rose?" Jack. He looked worried and she offered him a smile. "You okay?"

"Shouldn't I be askin' you that?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. But I asked you first."

She shook her head. "I'm fine. Good even. Little cold maybe. But otherwise, good."

"C'mere," he told her, opening his arms. She went into his embrace willingly, closing her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. "Better?"

"Mmmm." She could stay like this forever. "How 'bout you?"

"Me?" He sounded surprised.

"I answered you. Now 's your turn." She opened her eyes and tilted her head so she could see his expression.

She had a hard time reading his face, almost as if a stranger's mask had slipped over it for a moment before dissipating. "I don't know. Starting a revolution against my mother. Being back here. Seeing Harrison and Evie again...I don't know if I'm okay."

Now Rose could read the doubts in his eyes and she reached up to gently caress his cheek. "You can do this, Jack. I know you can."

Jack smiled. "Yeah. Suppose I can. Thanks, Rose." He tightened his embrace.

"For what?"

"For being you." He brushed a kiss against her lips.

"HA!" The Doctor's exclamation caused them to pull away from each other enough to look in his direction. Surrounded by bits and bobs of machinery parts, wires, and a communications device of some sort on the floor, he looked more like a mad scientist than the Time Lord that he was. His manic grin brightened the room as he waved the jury-rigged machine in triumph. "Got it! An' it only took a little jiggery-pokery to do it. Too easy."

She watched, bemused, as he leapt to his feet and moved to join them. The gadget was held out for their inspection and her brow furrowed as she tried to determine what it would do. It was basically a communication device, apparently nicked by Jack from a guard. But what the Doctor's 'jiggery-pokery' was supposed to do was beyond her.

"It's the latest accessory," he told them in a serious tone, though the amusement in his eyes gave the game away. "An all-com unit that doesn't _only_ reach every communications device on the colony but also reaches anywhere on the planet. An' it comes in some lovely colours."

She grinned at his antics, but the expression faded as she felt Jack stiffen slightly in her arms.

"Showtime," he murmured.

Additional arms wrapped around them - gadget and all. "You'll be fantastic," the Doctor said.

Jack nodded and pulled out of the embrace, but not before kissing each of them once more. Rose blinked a little at the sight of Jack kissing the Doctor. Admittedly, the sight of Jack kissing a man didn't faze her. But the _Doctor_? And it appeared to her eyes that he was quite comfortable with the idea. Then again, strangely enough, so was she. But only because it was Jack. Huh. Things had definitely changed - and for the better - between them, though the most important words remained unspoken. Though she suspected, as she watched both of 'her' men step away to converse over the device, that most of those words were just that. Words. Actions were far more telling of the love they felt for each other than words alone. Someday, perhaps soon, perhaps not, they would say those words. But, for now, it remained an unspoken truth and that was enough.

The Doctor turned on the gadget and offered it to Jack. It was, as he said, showtime.

* * *

Across the colony, in every home and business, in every school and government facility, communication devices brightened to life. The familiar features of the Administrator's son, Jonathan Harkness, filled the screen, but not as they knew him. He wore a t-shirt emblazoned with the name of a band some twenty years gone. This was not the slicked back, perfect son Elizabeth Harkness told them about. This was someone else. This was some_thing_ else.

_"Hello. I suppose to some of you I don't need an introduction. My mother has been doing that for me. However, I'm not here to repeat my mother's lies. I'm here to tell you the truth. And the truth is this. My name is Jack Harkness and I have lived off-world for the past twenty years._

_"My mother has told you that I'm here to save you. I suppose, in a way, I am. Not for her sake, but for your own. I'm going to tell you a story - make of it what you will - but know that it's nothing but the truth. Suppose, if you will, that once upon a time there lived a little boy. To the outside world, to you, he lived the perfect life. He had the perfect mother, the perfect schools, the perfect friends, the perfect existence. But to the inside, to those who were his true friends, they knew the truth. That perfect life was a lie._

_"That little boy was punished for what were - to most parents - minor indiscretions. He was beaten at times, but never where it would show. The perfect facade would never be broken. He was kept away from his friends, from people who actually cared about him rather than what sort of figurehead he could become. He was corrected, oppressed, persecuted and moulded in the attempt to make him into a perfect little version of his not-so-perfect mother._

_"That little boy saw beyond the pretty pictures that his mother painted to the fetid core. Here's another truth. That boy was me. And here's another one. I wasn't the only one oppressed, persecuted, or dominated by her rules and regulations. So. Were. You. So. Are. You. Underneath the picture-perfect facade of Telurais is oppression and domination. Basic freedoms are denied to all but a select few. The right to be yourself. The freedom of movement, to go where you will, do what you will, be who you want to be is non-existent. The right to express yourself through words, thoughts, or actions is denied. This place, this colony, this world is not perfect. It has more problems than many other colonies of the same size and that is all due to one person. One woman. It is all due to Elizabeth Harkness. She's just a woman. Not a goddess. Not omnipotent. Just a bitter, conniving, evil and manipulative woman who needs to learn one more truth._

_"Everything has a consequence. Everything. Every lie that she has uttered, every evil thing that she has done has a consequence. This is one of them. It is up to you to decide the other. All I can do is give you the idea. The rest is up to you. You are the heroes here. You are the ones who can stop the tyranny. You are the ones who can defeat Elizabeth Harkness._

_"That choice is yours."_

The truth, once released, can never be contained. For those few who had not heard Jack Harkness' words, they listened to them later from the mouths of friends and family members. The truth spread and everywhere that it touched it burned.

In the colonial offices of the Administrator, a woman watched in horror as her perfect society began to collapse around her. The end was nigh.

And it was all caused by her _perfect_ son.

* * *

He hated saying goodbye. Better to show up, save the world, and then swan off again with none the wiser. Made things nice and simple. However, he suspected that Jack - and quite possibly Rose - would have his head if he took it upon himself to bundle them off to the TARDIS with nothing more than a 'see ya!' to the revolutionaries. Then again, come to think of it, that might be a bit rude and that was one thing that he had decided not to be this regeneration.

So, goodbye.

"Right then. I think you lot can handle it from here." He grinned at Harrison and was rewarded with only a rather tentative smile in return. "Come on, there. Buck up! After all, 's not often that most of your work's done for you."

The revolutionaries exchanged a glance. "The work's only just begun."

"Nah. The foundations were already there, Jack just gave it a little nudge in the right direction. Before you know it, you lot'll be free." He caught the rather nervous expression on Evelyn's face and his grin widened. "Ah, it's not all that bad. It'll be fun! Exciting times are ahead of you. Could almost say that I'm a mite jealous."

Rose looked at him questioningly.

"I said a _mite_!" he protested at her look and was rewarded with a smile. The Doctor caught Jack's faint grin and nodded, satisfied. "Right. Well, there's that then. Time to go, I think. Things to do, people to see, places to go, tea to drink..."

The Doctor joined Rose by the door, giving Jack some time to say his goodbyes. He took that moment, only half-listening to the murmured words behind him, to take a good look at his companion. She was cold, but hiding it as best she could. The goose-pimples gave her away and he shrugged off his jacket and offered it to her. "You're cold," he said in response to her silent question, and helped her slide it on.

He heard the a faint noise and looked up to see that Jack had joined them. "Ready?" the other man asked, a weak smile on his face. The Doctor's hearts ached for the other man. Confession was said to be good for the soul, but it tended to leave a raw sensation in its wake.

Jack had obviously had several festering wounds within his psyche, wounds that had never truly begun to heal. Now they could. And, to help matters along, he had decided upon their next stop. The Brigadier's gardens were a good place for healing, as he knew from experience. He could only hope that they could do the same for Jack.

Rose answered for him, sliding her hand into his. "Yeah. Let's get back home."

The Doctor paused for a moment and held out his free hand to Jack, wiggling his fingers suggestively. When the other man grasped it within his own, he grinned. Much better.

However, before they could leave, Evelyn's voice stopped them. "Doctor? Who are you? Really? Even if Jack came back on his own, I doubt we would've gotten this far without your assistance."

The Doctor's grin widened as he looked over his shoulder at the two people who would help save their world. "Just a friend passing through."

She did not appear satisfied by the response, but that was all she was going to get. "Thank you."

"All in a day's work. C'mon, Rose. C'mon, Jack. There's a nice cuppa with our names on it back at the TARDIS." With his companions firmly in hand - literally - he headed for the door.

Time to go.

* * *

He had spent most of his life running from home. Funny that. Twenty years gone, and he was doing it again. Running away from home, only this time in the company of the two people he loved most in the universe. It was said that one must learn from the mistakes of the past to avoid making them in the future. Ironic. Running away from home.

Again.

Twenty years ago, he had run through the halls of the colony. Twenty years ago, he had dodged his mother's guards by ducking into different corridors and into empty rooms. Twenty years ago, he had slipped into the Teluraisian landing bay and stolen one of the shuttles. Twenty years ago, he had managed to escape. Twenty years later, he was repeating himself.

He looked around the cavernous landing bay, picking at random a transport that would take them back to the mainland. It had been a long time since he had last flown a simple shuttlecraft, but the principles remained the same. At least in a shuttle he need not worry about landing them ten minutes too late or twenty years too early. "That one," he told his companions, indicating one of the vehicles.

He had to drop the Doctor's hand to work on the door controls, cursing faintly as the stubborn device refused to function properly.

"Let me," the Doctor said and gently pushed him aside. Sonic screwdriver in hand, the Time Lord caused the control panel to spark alarmingly. With another twist of his device, the shuttle seemed to groan and the hatch sprung open. "The sonic screwdriver - not just for puttin' up shelves."

He let the Doctor and Rose precede him inside and he paused, glancing around the room. Once again he was saying goodbye to his home. Once again he was running. But this time, he knew, was different. This time he wasn't a scared kid. This time he was a man who knew that he was loved. This time - he grinned - this time he could be truthful in the last words he would utter on the colony.

"I'm going home."

The journey back to the mainland was spent in a companionable silence that was broken only when he thought of something. "Doctor, what month is it?" Jack could not take his eyes away from the controls, so he could not see the Doctor's expression. However, from the long pause, he suspected his friend was doing the mental calculations.

"December, give or take a few days," the Doctor replied.

Huh. Imagine that. "You know, it makes sense now."

"What's that?" Rose asked.

"5048 was the year my mother became a dictator," he explained as he landed the shuttle. "5049 was the year she was overthrown."

"So...y'think you were meant to be here? Even though it was a mistake?" Her voice was slightly incredulous and he could not find the heart to blame her.

"It's possible," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "Coincidences are few and far between when it comes to time travel."

Jack smiled faintly. The prodigal son had returned, only to be the instrument of his mother's downfall. That was quite the coincidence. "I don't know."

"Coincidences tend to give me headaches," the Doctor confessed in a serious tone. Jack shot him a look only to see a pointed wink. "An' what's the best cure for a headache?"

"No, wait, let me guess," Rose said in a deadpan tone. "Tea?"

"Oh, give the girl a prize." The Time Lord slung his arm over Rose's shoulder and beckoned for him to join them. "C'mon, you two. There's a good cuppa with our names on it waiting in the TARDIS _right_ now."

Jack moved to Rose's side and wrapped his arm around her waist. Thus entwined, the trio left the shuttle behind.

He decided that there was an unreality to walking across the sand. The sound of the surf, the breeze that teased his skin, and the perfect cerulean skies above seemed to have been captured from a painting rather than from fact. The only things on Telurais that seemed real to him were the pale blue police box, the Doctor, and Rose. He felt detached from his experiences on the colony and with his mother.

Home.

It could mean so many different things. A planet, a place, even a person.

Home.

Telurais, his Chula warship, the TARDIS?

Home.

Mother, Harrison, Evelyn, the Doctor, Rose?

Home.

As Jack pushed open the door to the TARDIS and stepped inside, a new thought occurred to him. He wasn't running away from home. Not anymore. His life, his very existence, had all led up to one point - this one.

Home wasn't a planet.

Home wasn't an unforgiving mother who never deserved a son.

Home was a faded blue police box.

Home was the family that he chose, the two people who meant the most to him in the universe.

It wasn't running _from_ home, it was running _to_ home. And _that_ was what made all the difference.

_To be concluded..._


	7. Chapter Seven: Home

_Chapter Seven: Home_

It felt wonderful to wear clothes again. Much as she liked her swimsuit, she didn't fancy wearing it again for quite some time. There was, after all, only so much time one could spend in one and not get tired of it or freeze. She only hoped that the Doctor had not decided to take them to another beach. She did not think that she could stand the sight of one at the moment. Nor, she suspected, could Jack.

Something completely different was called for. Something nice, possibly tame, but nice. Gardens, perhaps? Or shopping! Yes, shopping would be perfect. The furthest thing possible from revolutions or worries about dysfunctional families. Shopping. She smiled brightly as she walked back into the console room.

The Doctor was his usual manic self, bounding from control to control as he set the coordinates for their next destination. Rose leaned against the railing, letting her hands dangle over the edge as she watched him. "So, where're we going?"

"Hmmm?" he asked somewhat absently as he twisted a knob. "Oh! Somewhere nice and relaxing. Thought we could do with a real holiday after this. No alien invasions or revolutions or running for our lives guaranteed."

Her scepticism must have shown on her face, because he paused in his mad dash around the console to shoot her a wounded look. "It's not always like that! Besides, the Brigadier's retired now - really. They wouldn't call him up...oh. Wait. They generally do, don't they? Well, maybe we'll be lucky this time! Far as I know, there aren't any invasions of Earth planned for at least another twenty days from our arrival."

She arched an eyebrow. "Twenty days?"

"Give or take a few."

"Right. An' didn't we just _come_ from the Brigadier's?" Rose asked. Surely they must be getting on the poor man's nerves by now.

"Well, yes, but not according to him! It's a month later. And, even better, they have this festival down at the village where all the ladies of the village dance around maypoles...oh, wait, that was a couple of centuries ago. Besides, I thought this might be good for us. Or, rather, for Jack. Give him some time to recuperate from what happened with just us around - and Alistair and Doris, of course." He set the TARDIS into flight, the familiar wheezing groans of the time rotor filling the room with sound. The Doctor turned toward her with a worried expression. "That is all right, isn't it?"

"What is?" Jack joined her by the railing, slinging one arm around her waist as he watched the Doctor. She looked at him and decided that he looked better. His hair was damp, apparently freshly-showered, but the worry lines around his eyes seemed to have faded. Good. But, she suspected that there was still a lot more going on behind his blue eyes than he was letting on. Typical male in that regard, at least. And here she was, stuck with two of them.

"Our next destination." Rose replied, filling him in on the Doctor's plans.

"You sure we wouldn't be bothering the Brigadier and Doris?" Jack all but repeated her earlier question.

The Doctor grinned. "I'm sure! Honestly! Scout's honour! God's given truth! I swear!"

Sometimes, Rose wondered if she should look into getting the Doctor some sort of calming medication - Ritalin or whatever the Time Lord equivalent was.

Before she could formulate a response, the time rotor groaned to a stop.

"Right then! Here we are." The Time Lord's manic grin widened as he bounded toward the doors. "You lot coming? Or were you plannin' on staring at the console for the rest of the day?"

Sharing a bemused look, Jack and she followed in his wake.

The Doctor pulled open the doors and over his head, Rose could see a startled Brigadier, hand lifted in the aborted attempt at a knock. "Alistair! Hello!"

"Doctor, good to see you again." He noticed her and Jack a moment later, "And Rose and Jack! Come out, come out. Doris just put the kettle on."

She slipped her hand into Jack's and gave it a slight squeeze. One holiday, just what the Doctor ordered. She could only hope that it was what Jack truly needed.

As they walked toward the doors, a new thought occurred to her. Jack no longer had a home – not that he ever really did. The Doctor had lost his home and family when Gallifrey was destroyed. She, of all of them, was the only one who had a 'home' and a family that she could choose to return to at any time. But the Powell Estates weren't home - not anymore. Home was here. Home was a TARDIS, a manic Time Lord, and a fifty-first century man. _Family_ was here. Or, rather, the family that she chose was here. What was important now was to get Jack to see that too. No matter what happened - past, present, or future - his family would always be there for him. They would always be there. That was what families do. That's what they did. And he - they - belonged to each other.

* * *

He suspected that he knew what the Doctor meant when he had wanted them to have a holiday. The Time Lord wanted to give him time - time to recuperate, time to heal, time to recover from the wounds of his past. He also suspected that he knew just why the Brigadier, and his gardens, had been the Doctor's first choice of destination.

This was where the soul-wounded Time Lord had sought to recover in the aftermath of the Time War. He could see why as he walked through the gardens. It was peaceful. Quiet. Nice. The furthest thing possible from thoughts of war, or damage, or pain. The very soil seemed to extrude the same amount of love and care that had been poured into them to help the plants grow. He supposed that he needed that, just as the Doctor had in his previous form.

He paused to examine one of the flowering bushes, inhaling its fragrance and letting the scent wash away his cares. Yes. This was exactly what he needed.

"Jack?" Rose's voice sounded tentative. Silently, he chided himself. It wasn't like him to not have noticed someone's approach. But it wasn't like he needed to expect danger at every turn. This was the Brigadier's garden, not Telurais.

He turned to favour her with a warm smile. This was Rose, his Rose. "Yeah?" She need not know just what was going through his mind. He was glad that she seemed to relax at the sight of his smile.

"I was wonderin' if you wanted some company? I mean, if you don't..." The tentativeness had returned.

Did he want company? No. Rose was not company. She was Rose. Just Rose. And he wanted her to be around. "No," he said and grabbed her hand. "I'd be glad for the company. Where's the Doctor?"

She smiled brightly at him. "Good. I left the Doctor and the Brigadier discussin' someone named Bessie. Thought I'd come an' find you instead of stickin' around."

"I'm glad you did." And it was the truth. Her presence could ward away what morbid thoughts might come to mind.

Rose bit her lip and seemed to reach an decision before she answered him. "How're you doing, Jack? Really? An' 'fine' jus' doesn't cut it."

The automatic response of 'fine' died unspoken on his tongue. She knew him too well. This was Rose. She deserved the truth, at least in part. There were some things that he was still loath to examine from his childhood. However, the knowledge that his mother had been or was or would be - time travel tended to send tenses straight to hell - defeated helped. Learning that he was the cause, or at least the fulcrum, of the revolution was oddly satisfying. But none of those thoughts answered Rose's question. How did he feel?

"I'm not sure," he confessed. "I've spent so many years running away from my past, it's hard to come to terms with the thought that I don't have to anymore."

Slender arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. "It's over, Jack. You've won."

"Have I?" he asked, hugging her in return. "Really?"

"I'd call it a win," she told him. "You faced your Mum, and walked away from it. You helped start a revolution against her. You faced your past. I'd definitely say that that's a win."

He carefully thought over her words, mulling them about in his mind. A win? Well, it could be said that a win was anything that could be walked away from. In that case, yes, it was a win. They were safe. They were together. It _was_ over. Jack smiled, lifting his hand to gently caress her cheek. "Has anyone told you recently what an amazing woman you are, Rose Tyler?"

"Mmmm, not recently," she replied with a mischievous smile.

"You are an amazing woman." He repeated his earlier words. And she was. She was Rose. His Rose. The Doctor's Rose. _Their_ Rose. Jack ducked his head to press his lips against hers in a kiss. He attempted to convey his emotions through the gesture, the love and his thankfulness that she was simply her.

When he pulled away, she had a slightly dazed expression on her face. Then again, so did he. Actions speak louder than words, but, he decided, this time the words were meant to be spoken.

"I love you."

Her dazed expression faded to be replaced by a brilliant smile. "Me too."

Nothing had changed, not really. They had always loved each other, only now the words were spoken. And that made everything different.

* * *

He was new. New body. New personality. New hair. New teeth. Yet his feelings had stubbornly refused to change. Strange, that. He had had companions before, companions that were dear to him in their own ways, but never in all his lives had he experienced this. He ran a hand through his hair in a careless gesture as he collapsed into the chair next to his old friend. He had kissed Rose. He had kissed Jack.

Nothing had changed, yet everything had.

"Cosmic thoughts?" Alistair's gravelly voice interrupted his reverie.

"Not quite cosmic. Maybe atomic," the Doctor mused.

The Brigadier barked a laugh. "Atomic? I doubt that, especially given the expression on your face. Want to talk about it?"

He turned slightly in the chair so he could see the other man's expression. "Suppose I'm thinking about change."

"That's only natural. You lot have been through a great deal over the past few days."

"Mmm, perhaps. I suspect that I've spent too much time around your species. I'm starting to think like you." And feel like you.

"Is that a bad thing?" Alistair asked.

He considered the question, playing the words over in his mind. Was it a bad thing? No, he decided, not at all. "Nope."

"Then what's the problem?"

He opened his mouth to reply, before closing it again. There was no problem. Some things changed. Some things did't. And some things never would. He knew what this was. He knew what he was feeling, just as he knew how his companions felt. There was no problem unless he made it into one.

It wasn't a problem. It was love. And he needed to stop using his being a Time Lord as an excuse. He had done that in his ninth life and had lost out on what could be. Not again. He was a new man. A new Doctor. And he knew exactly what he wanted.

"There isn't one." He practically jumped out of the chair, and he caught the glimmer of the Brigadier's amusement at the action. "Thanks, Alistair!"

"Thanks for what?" The Brigadier asked, his brow furrowed in confusion, but the Doctor did not bother to reply. He had a mission.

Everything changes. Every moment of every day, something is different. From the blade of grass that he crushed underneath his foot as he strode through the Lethbridge-Stewart gardens to the air that he breathed, nothing was the same as a mere nanosecond before. Time had moved on. Time had wrought changes in each aspect of his existence, except for one. His steps faltered as he watched them admire the rhododendrons.

He could not help but admire the view. His companions were happy. The sorrow and regret that had darkened Jack's smile was gone. The worry that had shadowed Rose's eyes had dissipated. In the way that they looked at each other, he could see the truth. They were closer. No, wait, that was love. They loved each other; were _in_ love with each other. Just like he was in love with them. Convenient, that. They were happy. _He_ was happy. It was time. No more problems. No more excuses.

"Doctor!" Rose greeted him, her smile bright.

"Happy?" he asked, though he knew the truth.

"Absolutely." She nodded, linking her arm with Jack's. "Jack was just tellin' me some of his stories. Back from his Time Agency days."

"Another story where you were naked?" A smile played about his lips at the thought.

"Is there any other?" Jack asked with a wide grin.

"Nothing changes." Amusement coloured his tone, but he sobered quickly. If he didn't say it, if he did not take the leap, he might convince himself differently. He might convince himself there was a problem, despite his self-assurances to the contrary.

"Doctor?" Rose asked. She had caught the look in his eyes, but she had always known him the best. She was the best, as was Jack.

"I'm a new man. But some things don't change." He caught their hands within his own, staring intently into their eyes. "What was true in my ninth life is still true now."

"Doctor?" Rose repeated the question, only this time he could hear his name layered with far more emotion. She knew what he was about to say. He could see the hope rising in her face. Jack was a bit slower, but he caught on shortly thereafter.

He tugged her to him, relishing the feel of her body tucked against his. He still had Jack firmly in his grasp and he prevented him from pulling away as he ducked his head to press his lips against Rose's for their second kiss. No fireworks exploded in the skies, no trumpets sounded resounding joy, and the world did not end. It was not the perfect kiss, but it was _their_ kiss. It was them. Rose and the Doctor and Jack. She came first in time, but they were equal in his hearts.

He pulled away from the kiss, feeling rather smug at the dazed expression on her face. He had done that to her. Then again, he was feeling particularly giddy himself. Next. Jack's expression reflected both arousal and anxiety. He knew what that was. Jack thought he wasn't included.

Silly ape, he thought fondly as he drew him closer with an imperious tug of the other man's hand. "Think I'd forgotten you?"

Jack blinked in shock, struck speechless. There was only one response to that expression, only one thing he could do. With one hand holding Rose securely against him, he dropped Jack's hand to touch the other man's face in a caress. Then he kissed him.

It was different from his kiss with Rose. Where she was soft feminine beauty, Jack was dark masculinity. The other man's lips were unmoving for only a moment before the kiss was returned whole-heartedly. As with Rose, it was not perfect. But it was theirs. It was them. It was love.

When they separated, both were breathing hard. He was learning new things, new _human_ things, and that was not a problem at all. He watched as Rose pulled Jack down for a kiss of her own, proving once more that in this - like in all things - they were the same.

Nothing had changed, yet everything had.

Love, like life, was better with three.

_THE END_


End file.
